Harry Potter and the Golden Gryffin
by kidfreedom50
Summary: Story takes place after book six.


Harry's eyes fluttered open to a familiar sight. It had been one week since he had arrived back at Privet Drive, and he was beginning to worry – he had yet to receive a single letter from anyone, including Ron, Hermione, or Ginny. The past year had been a trying one; an entire school year filled with the schemes of Draco Malfoy, the cryptic words of Dumbledore, and the murderous actions of the coward Snape. Horrific images filled his head when he thought of his friends and the danger they were all in. He knew he had made the right decision when it came to Ginny, it wouldn't be fair to her to put her in that situation. He was sure he was saving her from a terrible fate and though he never admitted it, he was also worried that she would be a distraction.

Trapped in a swirl of unfamiliar emotions and thoughts, Harry let out a frustrated sigh. How could he possibly vanquish a man that not even Dumbledore had managed to defeat? The entire weight of the free world rested on his shoulders, millions of lives were at stake, but sometimes he felt so hopeless. All three father figures from his life were gone. He had been a toddler when his father was murdered by Voldemort, he felt responsible for Sirius' death and he had no choice but to just sit back and watch as Dumbledore was killed without putting up a fight.

For the first time in his life he felt completely alone. The lack of contact with Ron and Hermione didn't help the situation, and a deep sadness came over him when he thought about Ginny.

He couldn't help thinking "what if?"

What if he had taken his occlumency lessons seriously? Here he was a year removed from the disastrous private lessons with Snape and he couldn't even keep his mind clear of images of flowing red hair – how could he possibly shield his mind from the world's most powerful dark wizard?

When he had first heard the prophecy, he had been stuck on the realization that he only had two choices – kill, or be killed. In the past week he had a lot of time to think and started to wonder if it was really that simple.

Would killing Voldemort really save the world from evil? Would it finally bring him the peace and happiness he had so sorely lacked in his life? What if the people he loved died along the way? Was a world without Ron, Hermione, or Ginny, worth living? Questions and scenarios echoed through his mind and he buried his face in his pillow, letting out a muffled yell of frustration.

It all came to the same conclusion – he wasn't ready.

Feelings of inadequacy and loss filled him, and as he reached the lowest of lows, his eyes snapped open with a loud "Crack!" downstairs. He knew Dumbledore had placed a variety of safety wards around the Dursley house, surely apparition would be impossible. He grasped at his wand carefully and threw himself under his invisibility cloak. He crept downstairs, sure to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible.

"That'll be quite enough of that, Potter." The voice sounded familiar. "Though I'm sure that cloak comes in quite handy for late-night snacks."

"Professor Moody!" rang out Harry. Harry swiftly threw his cloak off and ran to the portly man, mindlessly throwing his arms around him in greeting. A second or two later he came to his senses and quickly backed away. "Uhh…nice to see you, sir."

"I like the enthusiasm, Potter! Good to see you're taking care of yourself!"

Harry slowly came back to reality and noticed two familiar figures next to Mad-Eye. He recognized the flowing pink hair and greeted Tonks with a warm embrace. He noticed a few new scratches and bruises, but nothing to suggest the dangerous nature of her work. Standing to her left was the warm smile of Remus Lupin. It had been a long time since he had seen him this happy. Harry's smile turned into a mischievous grin which Lupin silently returned; obviously things must be going well with him and Tonks.

For a second all of his worries faded away as he found himself in familiar company. He realized for the first time just how much they meant to him – all of them more than willing to give their lives for him. Mad-Eye and Lupin were like uncles and Tonks, being closer in age, was like a sister to him. Despite meeting for the first time less than two years ago, there was a very strong bond between them – perhaps one of mutual loss. With that thought his mind drifted to Sirius, but he didn't have time to get too deep into that as he heard a thunderous rumbling from the stairs which no doubt signaled Dudley or his Uncle Dursley had heard the commotion.

"What in the blazes is going on here!?" came the furious voice of Mr. Dursley. A permanent sneer stuck on his face had evolved quite suddenly into a look of shock and fear with the site of Moody. Just as quick as it had come, the look faded back into the familiar snarl. "It's six o'clock in the bloody morning! "

"Silence Dursley!" bellowed Moody. "We are here to escort Harry; we will return him this afternoon."

"Oh really? And what if I object?"

"Do you really have to guess?" and with that remark, a creepy grin crept across Moody's face as he slowly reached for his wand.

The expression on Mr. Dursley's face did not waiver, but a slight green discoloration in his cheeks gave away the sick feeling that no doubt rose from the pit of his stomach. Without another word, Harry left to go change – a blur or pajamas flying off and jeans and a t-shirt flying on. Finally a change in the monotony of his summer. He rushed downstairs and without another word they left.

"Professor, if you don't mind me asking, where are we going?"

"It's a matter of Dumbledore's will, Harry. You were very close to him and it looks like he's left you something."

A sullen look crossed Harry's face, and the images of Dumbledore's death flashed vividly in his head. Lupin reached his hand to Harry's shoulder in understanding. It was clear the pain of his death had affected them all greatly. A shiver of doubt raced down Harry's spine.

"Professor, I was just thinking – how did you apparate in? Isn't there some sort of protection against that?"

"Ahh, well. Dumbledore was a bright man, sometimes too much for his own good. He arranged that in the event of his death, the apparition wards would open up to allow members of the Order in." replied Moody.

"What about --" but Harry was cut off.

"Snape has been formally removed from the Order; there is no need to worry."

A mixture of relief and a brief hint of anger arose in Harry at the mention of his name. Dumbledore had trusted him when no one else would, and he had betrayed him.

"Ahh, now that that's settled, Harry, I trust you have apparated before?"

"No. I mean yes." Harry replied uneasily. "Well, I've done it a couple times, but not enough to be an expert of anything."

"Well, if that's the case I guess it'll be side-along for you. Grab a hold of my arm, Potter." With that, Moody nodded at the others and they disappeared with a brief "Crack!"

Harry felt as if he would never get used to the feeling of apparition, he felt as if his insides were being scrambled and deep feeling of nausea crept over him. They arrived at their destination, and Harry felt his spirits rise a little as he recognized the streets of Hogesmead. A few disillusionment charms and a short broom ride later, they had arrived at the familiar gates of Hogwarts.

Harry had been almost certain he had stepped foot on Hogwarts soil for the last time as he vowed to find and destroy the horcruxes, but it felt good to be back once more – something very comforting in its familiar landscape. They quickly made their way to the entrance of the headmaster's office and noticed that no password was necessary – yet another reminder of Dumbledore's absence. Harry dutifully made his way up the stairs with mixed emotions. A combination of sadness, regret, and curiosity arose in him as he entered into the familiar room.

There to greet him were the knowing eyes of Professor McGonagall, it was clear the past few weeks had taken their toll on her.

"It's just you Mr. Potter, the rest of the will was distributed a while ago. Albus made it quite clear he wanted you to be alone for the rest of it, so I'll be outside."

With that, the new headmaster made her way toward him, stopped, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Harry was too stunned to return it, and she simply walked out of the room and descended the steps into the hall. Harry slowly collected himself, not remembering the last time his former transfiguration teacher had shown him this level of affection. Perhaps something had changed with the death or Dumbledore?

Harry made his way toward the back of the headmaster's room. On the all too familiar desk, Harry found a small piece of rolled-up parchment along with a box the size of a text book. He reached for the parchment, untying the loose crimson knot and freeing its contents.

_Harry,_

_If you are reading this, I am dead. Yeah, a little cliché isn't it? I don't want to keep you too long, but first, I want to thank you for your help with the horcrux. Three down! Only three more to go!_

Moisture gathered in Harry's eyes. There were only two down, the locket had been a fake.

_No doubt the events surrounding my death have left you with a bunch of questions; and I'm sorry to say that I don't have the answers to all of them. All I can say is that I have always considered myself a great judge of character. Things are not always as they seem!_

Harry paused at this sentence; what was he trying to say?

_I have very little to explain to you that I can fit into this note, but instead I believe this box will provide you with the answers you seek._

_There are trying times ahead, Harry. I have my utmost trust in your ability to cope with the dangers to come. Keep those you love close to your heart, remember that it was love that saved you, and I have a feeling love will still have a role to play in the very near future._

_Farewell Harry,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Tears slowly tread from Harry's eyes. He turned his attention to the box and noticed for the first time its simplistic brilliance. The case was made from a very dark wood and featured a large golden imprint of a griffin on its top. An elaborate gold pattern stretched across its surface and led to a key-hole at its edge. For a second his tears stopped flowing, and a panic reached him – he had no key. He attempted to open the case but it wouldn't budge. He brought out his wand, aimed it at the keyhole and shouted "_Alohomora_!" Nothing happened.

In frustration and dejection, he laid his hand on top of the box, directly over the griffin design. He felt a sudden movement under his hand and lifted it to see the griffin seeming to stir. The design seemed to come to life and let out a loud, dignified, roar. Without another sound, the griffin faded back to its original place and the case snapped open. With a confused and cautious look on his face, Harry slowly lifted the top and opened the case.

The inside was layered with soft velvet, and its contents were revealed to be a very old book, probably a journal, what appeared to be a vault-key, and a black jagged rock that could probably fit into his hand.

He stared in confusion. Perhaps the journal was Dumbledore's? Maybe the key was for Gringotts? A rock?

Harry examined the journal closely; there were no markings to indicate ownership. He turned to the first page – it was blank. The second, third, and every page after that were also blank. Harry remembered back to the diary of Tom Riddle, and he quickly closed the journal. Yet, he knew Dumbledore wouldn't knowingly put him in harm's way, so he exhaled deeply, took a breath, and turned once again to the first page.

Harry found a nearby quill and began writing, just as he had several years earlier.

"_Hello" _he wrote.

His words sank into the page and disappeared. He looked on expectantly, and just as Tom Riddle had responded in his diary, words seemed to magically appear on the paper in a similar fashion.

_Hello_

A shiver crept up his spine – the similarities were quite unwelcome.

"_My name is Harry Potter. What's yours?"_

Harry half-expected "Tom Riddle" to appear, and was prepared for the worst. The response, however, came as much more of a shock.

_Hello Harry, my name is Godric Gryffindor._


End file.
